John Watson and The High-Functioning Sociopath
by Psionic Arsonist
Summary: John Watson, a half-blood wizard, has just received his acceptance letter to Hogwarts. There, he meets Sherlock Holmes, who will change his life forever. For the better or for worse, John can't say.
1. Accepted

**Hi! It's PsionicArsonist here. I want to clarify a few things before you start reading.**

**This is my first fanfiction, and my first crossover. I hope my you'll like what I wrote!**

**While this fanfic is set at Hogwarts, there will be no involvement from the original characters (I will make allusions to them on occasion, so keep an eye out). The events that occurred in the HP books have no direct effect to this story arc (although, as with the characters, I will make references). I am going to try to keep the story as canon as possible, but every now and then I'll throw in one of my own headcanons in. I'm sorry if this annoys you. This is my first fanfiction, and my first crossover. I hope you'll like what I wrote.**

**I'll stop babbling on now and let you read the story. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter One:**

**Accepted**

With some trepidation, John Hamish Watson walked to King's Cross Station.

It was just a few short weeks ago that John had received a letter on his birthday, stating that he had been accepted into The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. When he had first read the letter, he thought it was complete hogwash. He dismissed it as a joke. Then, almost instantaneously after he read his letter, he heard a knock on his front door.

When his mother opened the door, a very odd looking man was standing there. He was dressed in a bright gold robe, with a hat to match. He said he was there on account of John's schooling. His mother was very confused, as she had enrolled him at Eton for the fall. The man introduced himself as Professor Spearen.

He explained that John was a wizard, and that Hogwarts had accepted because his father had enrolled him shortly after John was born. John's mother was in shock.

"That's not possible! For starters, Henry died from cancer a week after John was born. Secondly, magic isn't real! Wizards are make believe, fairy tales!" She was adamant.

Professor Spearen patiently waited for Mrs. Watson to finish her tirade, as if he'd gone through this before. "Haven't you ever wondered why strange things happen around John? Like how he was able to walk home safely from preschool back here because he missed you, or how he can sometimes make objects levitate? It's because his father was a wizard. And I am so sorry to tell you this, but Henry didn't die from cancer. He died from dragon pox." Mrs. Watson gaped in disbelief. John got up from his hiding place behind the sofa. "Mother, I think I believe the professor. Weird things are always happening to me. What other explanation is there except that I'm a wizard?"

Professor Spearen looked down kindly at John. He bent down so that he could be at John's eye level. "Now, John, I don't suppose you still have your letter?" John pulled the slightly crumpled envelope from his jumper pocket. The professor gestured that he should read it aloud.

With a quick look at his mother, John began:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

Headmistress:_ Milotia Cornell_

Dear Mr. Watson, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Sincerely, _Professor Spintra_

Deputy Headmaster

John looked wonderingly at Professor Spearen. What do they mean 'they await my owl'?" The professor smiled. "Don't you worry, dear boy. I merely need your mother's permission." He turned to Mrs. Watson. " So, do you believe now that your boy is a wizard?"

She looked slightly faint. She looked down at John, meeting his pleading eyes. She gave a small nod. Spearen clapped his hands together. "Ah, excellent! Now," he turned to John once more "will you please pull out the second letter enclosed?" John quickly checked the envelope again. There was indeed a second letter.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY**

**UNIFORM**

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

**COURSE BOOKS**

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_Magical Fungi and Fauna by Neville Longbottom_

_Stopper Death and Bottle Glory by Severus Snape_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_A Guide to The Real Defensive Arts by Harry Potter_

**OTHER EQUIPMENT**

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2, thickness certified by Percy Ignatius Weasley)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS**

**ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK**

Yours sincerely,

_Marcus Litun_

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

Again, John turned to Spearen in confusion. Where was he supposed to find these things? Half of them sounded far-fetched even by wizard standards. What kind of a name was Longbottom anyhow? And then there was the problem of payment. His mother was an only parent after all.

The professor's eyes twinkled. "Don't fret my dear boy. All in due time. That is, as long as your mother is strong enough to accompany us." John whirled around. His mother had indeed fainted! He rushed to her side and began fanning her. The professor also walked over to Mrs. Watson. "No need for that, John. Now watch," Spearen put his hand inside his robe, pulling out a wooden stick, about ten inches long. John watched in awe as Spearen pointed his wand at Mrs. Watson's chest, while murmuring "_Rennervate!"_

John's mother opened her eyes. She looked slightly startled to have the professor standing over her, holding a stick in face. John couldn't help but laugh. She looked indignant. "What are you laughing at, then?" This only made John laugh harder, until his mother also began to laugh. She pulled him close to her. "My boy, my special_ wizard_ boy," she whispered into his ear.

Professor Spearen cleared his throat. "Now, madam, would you please accompany us to fetch your son's school supplies?" Mrs. Watson took the supply list from John's hand. Her eyes widened. "Where am I supposed to get these things from," she asked, voicing John's thoughts from before, "and how am I supposed to pay for the lot of it? I don't suppose to wizards take pounds, do they?"

Spearen merely gestured at the door. "To answer your first question, we are going to Diagon Alley to procure John's supplies. To answer your second, well now, you don't think your husband left this world without making sure his family was secure first, do you?"

John and his mother looked at each other in puzzlement. "What?" they asked in unison.

The professor grinned. "Why don't I just show you?"

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**Hi! It's me again. If you're here, that can only mean two things: you read the first chapter, or you scrolled down so you could see how long it was.**

** If you are the first type, then thank you for reading! If you would like, please leave a rate and/or a review and/or a private message. It'll help me decide if I'll keep writing the story. **

**If you are the second type, then I say to you: scroll back up and read!**

**I'll stop babbling now (I hope that doesn't turn into a thing), and let you delve back into the wonderful world of fanfiction. Bye!**

**-PsionicArsonist**


	2. Twin Wands

**Hi there! This is a longer chapter, but I have to set up the plot. Don't worry! Sherlock is coming in soon. Thanks for all the views!**** Well, I guess I'll stop babbling now (I've decided. It's totally a thing now.) and let you get on with reading. Bye!**

**-PsionicArsonist**

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**Chapter 2:**

**Twin Wands**

The professor certainly had shown them. Spearen had led them through a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, where they passed through a magic brick wall, concealing Diagon Alley. John had never seen such strange things! To his left he saw a huge pet store, with lizards running around- _on fire. _To his right, he saw saw a group of boys gathered at the display at what appeared to be a sports shop. John overheard some of the boys comments. "It's the Phoenix 6000! It's the best broom in the world. Ginny Weasley uses it!"

One of the boys shifted a bit, and John saw they were looking at a broomstick. _Flying broomsticks are real? _John thought, incredulous. He opened his mouth to ask the professor if this was true, but then closed it as he looked up at the massive building in front of him.

"Welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. The most secure place in the world. Well, except for maybe Hogwarts", the professor said in an afterthought.

The building looked like it was made of white, pearly marble, with two pillars made of gold, right in front of the huge oaken doors. "This is a _bank?" _John's mother inquired, her tone bordering on disbelief. "Yes. There are miles of gold beneath your feet right now," Spearen said. Predictably, both John and his mother looked at the cobblestone beneath their feet. The professor laughed. "Shall we proceed?"

The three of them made their way way up the steps to go inside. The interior was just as marvelous, if not more so, than the outside. John's mother let out a small squeak. John turned to, about to ask what was wrong, when he saw what she was staring at.

It was a creature, with green, wrinkled skin, and long, knobby fingers. It's ears turned up in a sharp point, and it's chin looked like it could cut diamond.

The professor tutted. "Now don't stare. That's just a goblin. They run the bank." John's mother looked slightly faint again. Mrs. Watson's voice went up a few octaves. "Oh, if that's all they are! Let's just hurry!"

They walked up the the goblin teller. "The key to vault 317, previously owned by Henry Watson, now owned by his son, John Hamish Watson," the professor said as he took a key from the depths of his robe. The goblin peered down at the scroll at his desk. "All seems to be in order," the goblin said in a raspy voice. "I'll send you with Raken. _Raken!" _

A small goblin scurried up. "Take these three to vault 317," the teller commanded. "Yes sir!" Raken squeaked. To the trio he said "If you'll please follow me!"

Raken led them through a small archway to the left of the teller desks. It was drastically different from where they just came from. The hallway was dark, with torches hanging on the wall every few feet, and there was a dank smell in the air.

The diminutive goblin showed them a small cart, like one you'd see on a rollercoaster. "If you please step in." Mrs. Watson stopped short. "We're riding in that thing?" The goblin looked confused. "Why of course! How else do you reach a vault?" Professor Spearen quickly stooped down and whispered something into Raken's ear. "OH!" Raken exclaimed. He looked at Mrs. Watson with a strange combination of fear and curiosity on his face.

"It will be a very short ride, I can assure you," the professor said to the stricken woman. Mrs. Watson took a deep breath, collecting herself. "Ok. I'm ready."

John stepped into the cart after Raken. When all four were in, the cart started moving on it's own, as if it already knew where to go. _It's bewitched! _John thought excitedly.

In a few short moments, they arrived at the correct vault. Raken took the key from the professor and placed it into a keyhole in the middle of the door. He turned the key, and the entire door melted away. John would have been more impressed by the display of magic, if he had not seen what lay beyond the door.

There were huge piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins stacked together haphazardly. Mrs. Watson let out a gasp. This was more money than she'd ever seen. The professor smiled. "I told you, your husband wanted to make sure you were secure in the wizard world. Now, John," Spearen looked down at him "this is wizarding money. The gold coins are Galleons, the silver are Sickles, and the bronze are Knuts. there are 17 Sickles in a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle. Understand?" John quickly memorized the conversions. "Yep. Got it."

To Mrs. Watson, the professor explained that wizard money was much more valuable than muggle (or non-wizard) money was. A single galleon was worth 50 pounds. Mrs. Watson started to cry with joy.

Spearen filled up three bags with some of the wizarding money. On, he handed to John's mother. "The front desk can exchange the lot of it for Muggle money." The other two he handed to John. "One bag, the larger, is for your school supplies. The other is for your own pleasure. Use it wisely."

They got back into the cart. They left the bank after exchanging Mrs. Watson's bag."Now, we must hunt for your supplies," the professor said as he clapped his hands together.

They sped around Diagon Alley, purchasing all of John's books and quills. John even bought a beautiful brown owl. Now, all they need was to buy his robes and his wand.

Professor Spearen pulled out a strange watch. He looked at the time and said "If you two would excuse me, I must go to a meeting." He gave them explicit directions on how to get to the tailor, and the wand shop. "I must be off. See you at school John!" And with that, he turned on the spot and disappeared with a _CRACK! _

Mrs. Watson blinked in surprise. "Well, I guess we'd better get going." They set off to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

When they got there, Mrs. Watson started to sway. John looked at her with alarm. "Mother? Are you okay?"

"Just a bit tired from today's adventures. Why don't I sit out here, and you can get your robes, yeah?" John bit his lip. "Okay, mother. I'll be right back." His mother flapped her hands at him. "Go on!"

John entered the shop. A friendly looking woman came up to him. "Are you a first year, dear?" John nodded his head. She led him to a dressing room. "All right, just step up here while I measure you." John obliged, and stood on the small stool. After Madame Malkin got all she needed, she left, saying "I'll be back in a jif."

John stood there, waiting, when a boy his age walked into the room. He had curly, black hair, and he walked stiffly, as if he was uncomfortable being there. Another woman, who John supposed was Madame Malkin's assistant, took his measurements. The boy looked at her coldly, as if daring her to stick him with a pin. The woman left quickly, unnerved by the boy's demeanor.

The boy looked calculating at John. John shivered. It felt like his entire life story had just been read and picked apart by this curly haired boy. He curled his lip, disinterested in what he found. John felt a surge of anger. Who was this curly-haired child to look at him like that? John glared at him. "Oi! What are you looking at, you git?" The boy laughed obnoxiously. "What am I looking at? Oh, just a boy named John who has a single parent who is obviously a muggle, meaning your father was the wizard, since you aren't a muggle-born, and you were with a professor, since he had no idea the wizarding world existed until this very day. My name is Sherlock, if you were wondering." Sherlock said all of this in a single breath. John blinked. "Are you a mind reader?" John asked. If wizards were real, then mind readers mustn't be that far-fetched, weren't they?

Sherlock shook his head, causing his curls to bounce in all directions. "I'm merely being observant. You should try it sometime," he said, with a smirk.

John simply gaped. Madame Malkin came back into the room. "Here you are, deary. Brand new robes." John took the robes from her. "Thank you," he said. He quickly left the shop without another glance at Sherlock.

His mother got up from the steps. "Is everything okay?" She asked, seeing the harried look in John's eyes. "Yeah, everything's fine. Let's go get my wand now, yeah?" Mrs. Watson looked like she didn't believe him, but she let it go. "Actually sweetie, I have to go to the hospital. Sarah is sick, and I need to fill in for her. Do you think you'll be fine by yourself?" John nodded, knowing his mother's job as a nurse was important. "Be careful John, and I love you," she bent down and kissed his forehead."Goodbye, sweetie!"

John watched the receding figure of his mother. With a sigh, he gathered up all his supplies, and walked to Ollivander's .

The wand shop was small and inconspicuous, so John walked past it a few times before seeing it. He entered the shop.

It was gloomy and full of dust. There were long, tall shelves stretching into the distance. Each shelf housed dozens of thin boxes. John assumed these were the wands. He set his things down on the floor, and began looking at them.

"And what do you think you are doing?" A voice came from the shadows. John jumped in surprise. An old man was standing in front of him.

"I -uh.. looking for a wand?" John's voice turned the statement into a question. "Ah, another customer perusing for his perfect magical instrument? Say no more." Ollivander started moving faster than his looks would have you believe.

He began measuring John, much like Madame Malkin, but his tape measure was floating in the air, taking measurements by itself. "Let's see, mustn't be too springy, oh no… willow? No, that'll never do.." Ollivander murmured to himself, giving John many wands, but taking them away as soon as John touched them. "Ah, a difficult customer, eh? Perhaps… no. It couldn't be." Ollivander peered deeply into John's eyes. "I suppose… yes! It must be!" Ollivander walked over to the shelves, looking for something. "Here it is. Try this one." John took the wand from Ollivander. A surge of warm energy flowed through his veins. Bright gold sparks shot from the end of the wand.

"Yes, I knew it." Ollivander took a breath. "Did you know the wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Watson?" John was too enraptured to notice that Ollivander knew his name. He shook his head no. "Yes, it does. No two wands are ever the same. All wands have a core, usually made from the hair of a magical being. Your wand is ten inches, stiff, made of oak, with a core of gryphon hair. It just so happens that the gryphon that gave your wand its core, also gave another. Just one other. As is it, I sold that very wand today, to another first year, just like you. How curious that the brother wands were sold the same day. Very curious indeed."

John looked down at his wand. Who owned the twin of his wand? John looked back up to ask Ollivander, but the old man had disappeared. John strained to see into the shadows, but saw nothing. He shrugged his shoulders. He gathered up his things and left the shop, still contemplating what Ollivander had said.

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**It's me again! The plot is finally starting, and you've met little Sherlock. He's a git, isn't he? You still have to love him. I will try to write the next chapter as soon as I can. I'll stop babbling (urgh) and release you unto the internet. Fly my readers, fly!**

**-PsionicArsonist**


	3. Journey from Platform 9 and 3 Quarters

**Commence the babble! Sorry for such a long hiatus between chapters. What with school and my crazed family during the holiday, I haven't have time to write. I wanna thank all of my followers for the sweet reviews. Y'all are the best! (Yes, I am Southern)**

**Well, I'll stop this babble-filled note. Read on, internet dwellers!**

** - Psionic Arsonist**

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**Chapter 3:**

**Journey from Platform 9 ¾**

A train whistle broke John from his reverie. He looked down at his ticket. It said that the Hogwarts Express left from Platform 9 ¾. John looked at the numbers posted on each pillar. There was only a bare pillar between Platform 9 and 10. John wished his mother was here with him; she was called in to the hospital. There was a strange plague sweeping through the nation, so the hospital was always short-staffed now.

John looked at his ticket again. The train left at 11 o'clock. It was 10:45. He only had fifteen minutes to figure out how to find the train. Also, he was garnering a lot of strange looks because of his massive trunk, and his owl, whom he'd named Moffat.

"Now, you must remember, you mustn't act superior to your teachers, even if you are, and don't curse your classmates..." John whirled around. _Curse? _ He spotted two people walking up to the empty pillar between 9 and 10, the shorter of which had a hedgehog on his shoulder. John looked closer at the shorter. It was Sherlock, the prick from Madam Malkins!

The taller boy (John assumed this was Sherlock's brother) was still talking. "You go first. I don't want you to curse one of these muggles. Get on with it, then," he said, pushing Sherlock's trolley against the pillar. Sherlock huffed. "I wouldn't want to waste my energy on these muggles anyhow, Mycroft." With a scornful tilt of his head, and with the hedgehog still propped up on his shoulder, he walked straight into the pillar and disappeared. John opened his mouth in surprise. Where had Sherlock gone? Mycroft shook his head humorously. He pushed his own trolley against the pillar, and melted into the wall.

John walked apprehensively to the pillar. Was he supposed to say something? He decided to just rush the pillar. He took a deep breath and pushed his trolley hard into the wall, expecting to bounce off. He was a foot away from the wall when- _he'd done it! _A crimson train was right in front of him, bearing the words _Hogwarts Express_. There were lots of strange colors and smells wafting through the crowd in front of the train. John saw Sherlock and Mycroft disappear into the mass of people.

John looked nervously around. He took Moffat's cage and his trunk off the trolley and tried to heave it into the train. He almost fell over from the weight of it when a hand appeared on his trunk. The hand proceeded to help John raise the trunk onto the train floor. John gasped in relief. "Thanks mate," he said, looking up at the hand who helped him. "The name's Greg, but everyone calls me Lestrade. You a first year?" John nodded in affirmation. "Yeah, I thought so. I'm a fifth year. Me an' my mates have a compartment up here. Wanna come with?"

"Yeah, I'd be happy to. Thanks," John said, dragging his things behind him.

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**Well, there's the end of this chapter! I'm gonna post another chapter later tonight to make up for the long pause, so keep a finger on the refresh button. Leave a review or a PM if you wanna talk. Stopping my babble now. Laters!**

** -Psionic Arsonist**


	4. Holmes at Hogwarts

**Greetings, pixels! I have written another illustrious addition to this epic saga!**

**Yeah right. As promised, double chapter tonight! My favorite curly-haired sociopath appears in this one. Hope you enjoy!**

**I need a cork for all this babble…**

** -Psionic Arsonist**

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**Chapter 4: **

**Holmes at Hogwarts**

John followed Lestrade to a compartment near the back of the train. Lestrade slid open the partition. There was a curly-haired girl sitting next the window and a boy with a weird haircut sat next to her. "Oi, guys. This is John. He's gonna ride with us. John, this is Sally Donovan. She's in Gryffindor with me. The bloke next to her is named Anderson. He's in Hufflepuff. They're both in fifth year with me." John gave a small wave. Sally stood up. "Nice to meet you, John. I think I'm going to get something off the food trolley. Any of you want anything?"

Lestrade waved his hand at her. "Nah, I'm good. What about you John?"

John was starving. He hadn't eaten that morning because he was too nervous about going to Hogwarts. "Can I have a Mars bar?" he asked shyly. Anderson gave him a queer look. "What you want muggle food for?" Anderson asked. Lestrade turned to John. "Are you muggle born?"

John explained that his father was a wizard, but neither him nor his mother had known.

"Well, I'll just get you a bit of everything. How's that sound?" Sally said, with a motherly look at John. He nodded his head. "Come with me, Anderson. I don't feel like lugging all the sweets by myself." Anderson jumped up, and followed Sally out of the compartment. Lestrade shut the partition behind them. "Poor bloke. Sally has him wrapped around his little finger," Lestrade shook his head, smiling. "Do you have any questions about the wizarding world, John? I'm a muggle born, so I know how confusing it all is." He sat down, gesturing that John should do the same. John sank into the plush cushion, thinking about which question he should ask first. He decided to ask about the school first. "So what is Hogwarts exactly? And what are Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?"

"Hogwarts is one of the best wizarding schools in the world. Nearly all of the famous witches and wizards graduated from there. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are school Houses, along with Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House has different characteristics. My House, Gryffindor, is for the brave and the chivalrous," Lestrade's chest swelled with pride. "Hufflepuff is for the hardworking. But to be honest," Lestrade leaned closer to John "I think it's full of dunderheads like Anderson." Both of them laughed.

"What are the other Houses like? I don't feel particularly brave or hardworking." John looked down at his feet.

"Chin up, John! Don't sell yourself short. You'll get sorted into whatever house fits you best. Just as long as you aren't in Slytherin…" Lestrade's face darkened. "There hasn't been a Dark wizard that hasn't been in Slytherin. That house believes itself to be cunning, but I think the lot of them are lying pricks. Ravenclaw is alright. That's the brainiac house. Bunch of weirdos, they are. That answer your questions?"

"Yeah, for now." Lestrade laughed. Sally and Anderson came back into the compartment, laden with sweets. They dumped it all unceremoniously into John's lap.

"What _are _these things?!" John asked, holding up what looked like a frog. "That's a chocolate frog," Sally answered. "There are trading cards inside." John opened up the package. He gasped. "The picture is moving!" Sally, Anderson, and Lestrade all laughed. "Who'd you get?" Anderson asked, leaning over to see.

"Some guy named Sebastian Nightshade. Who is he?" Lestrade sucked in a breath. "Who is _he_? Just one of the most powerful dark wizards of this century!" John looked back at the card in his head. Sebastian was mussing up his ink black hair. He didn't look very evil to John. "Well, what'd he do?"

Sally gave him a grave look. "He tried to wipe out the entire muggle population. Would have succeeded too, if He hadn't stopped him."

"He? He who?" John asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"No one knows," Lestrade said. "Some bloke just turned up out of the blue, and challenged Nightshade to a duel. Nightshade accepted, thinking he would crush this unknown wizard. Instead, the wizard nearly pulled the soul straight out of Nightshade. But before he could finish him off, there was a flash, and the stranger disappeared. Nightshade fled, and they say he's been living abroad, trying to find this stranger, and get revenge."

John's head hurt. There were evil people in the wizarding world too. Except they had wands that could do nearly anything. How joyful.

Then, the partition slid open. "Just thought you should know. We are going to arrive at Hogwarts soon, so you best get dressed into your school robes. Merlin knows you look dreadful in those muggle clothing," a boy's haughty voice said. John recognized him. It was Mycroft, Sherlock's brother.

Lestrade got up and pointed his wand at him. "Go away, Mycroft."

"Tisk, tisk, Lestrade. You wouldn't want to get in trouble before school has even started, do you? And you wouldn't dare curse a prefect?" He pointed at a shiny badge pinned neatly onto his robe. Lestrade stumbled back. "_No," _he whispered. "Not you!"

Mycroft let out a cold laugh. "Yes, me. Now, I demand that you show me respect, or else Gryffindor could lose the House Cup to Slytherin for the seventh year running. Good-bye, mudblood!" Mycroft left, his nose held proudly in the air, and a snide grin on his face.

Lestrade collapsed on the seat. Sally patted his arm. "It's all right. We'll show that pureblood git."

Anderson saw the questioning look in his eye. "They've been enemies ever since they laid eyes on each other," he whispered. "Mycroft is a horrible prick. But he's super intelligent, so the teachers never suspect a thing. I hear his brother is a first year. Now there are two Holmes at Hogwarts."

John nodded in understanding. He'd already met Sherlock. It'd make sense that his brother was like him.

As if Sherlock had hear John's thoughts, he appeared in the doorway.

"Have you seen my brother, Mycroft?" Sherlock's multi-colored eyes swept over the scene. "Quite obviously you have. If he does come back, tell him I came looking for him. The name is Sherlock." He looked at John. "Hello again. I do hope you make the right decision in the future about choosing your company." John's blood heated up. "Oh, I suppose you mean with you? Well, I would rather be cursed than to be in the same vicinity as you and your brother ever again!" Sherlock's pale face flushed in anger. He quickly left.

"I don't think that was a smart idea, mate," Anderson said. "The Holmes family is infamous for getting revenge if they feel they'd been scorned."

"Well, he damn well deserved it, the prick. Hand me my trunk so I can get changed, will you?" He could see the distant lights of Hogwarts twinkle outside the window. It was time for him to become a true wizard.

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**Babble time! That scene with Mycroft has been my favorite to write so far. I love writing antagonists. What do you think? Should John watch his back? You'll find out soon! (I hope)**

**I'm going to try to update on a more regular basis, so that there isn't such a long hiatus between chapters. I hate that! See you soon, potatoes and tomatoes. Bye!**

** -Psionic Arsonist**


	5. The Sorting

**Salutations, people of the binary code. Let the babble begin! I want to thank you all for reading. I just had a big influx of new readers. To you new peeps out there, I hope your internet speed is fast. So, new chapter. *END BABBLE* **

**Enjoy!**

** -Psionic Arsonist**

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**Chapter 5:**

**The Sorting**

"Alright mate," Lestrade patted his hand on John's shoulder. "This is where we split. Since you're a first year, you're going to go on the boats. Just go where to where that tall woman is standing. She'll tell you what to do. Bye, John. Hope you get into Gryffindor!" Sally and Anderson waved bye to John, and the three of them walked to horseless carriages on the road.

John fidgeted with his robe, and walked over to the lady Lestrade had told him about. As he got closer, he could hear the woman talking. "First years over here! First years over here!" John joined the other first years that had gathered around her.

"Hello, children. I am the groundskeeper, Hatha. Now, each of you, get into the boats behind me. Three to each, please!" John craned his neck to see behind Hatha. There was immense, black lake with hundreds of small boats floating on it. Each boat had a lantern, making it seem as if an army of fairies were laying siege to Hogwarts.

John got into one of the boats. There was already two people in it. One was a girl, with wavy red-brown hair. The other was a boy. He had a pinched look on his face, like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. "Hi, I'm Mary. Who are you?" The girl asked.

"J-John," John stuttered. He was still nervous about Hogwarts. Mary smiled. The other boy just glared at his feet. John could see a nametag on his robes. It read: Sebastian.

With a jolt, the armada of boats began their smooth journey across the lake. John could have sworn he'd saw a black tentacle rise out of the water. Hogwarts drew nearer.

The boats game to a gentle stop at the edge of port. Hatha made sure there were no stragglers, and began the ascent to the school.

"Ickle firsties! What fun!" A voice came from above them. John looked up to see a ghost hovering over his head. "PEEVES!" Hatha roared. She pointed what looked like a walking stick at him. A burst of air came out the end and sent the ghost rocketing towards the sky. "Poltergeist," Hatha spat. "We should get rid of them. Never trust Peeves, little ones. He'll try to mess with you." With that, Hatha continued up and pushed open the great mahogany doors. John gasped.

There was a gargantuan hall inside. There were four long tables, with kids already sitting in them. Another table was laid lengthwise at the end of the hall. John saw Professor Spearen sitting at the end, talking to another teacher. John heard Mary gasp. "The _ceiling!"_

John looked up. Where there should have been a ceiling, there was open sky.

"Honestly. Haven't any of you read _Hogwarts, A History? _The ceiling is bewitched to look like the sky outside." John whirled around to find Sherlock behind him, his eyes on the ceiling. "Shut up you prick. Not all of us waste our time with our noses in books," he said, indignantly. Sherlock looked at him with cool eyes. "Obviously not. Most of you have the intelligence quotients of a teaspoon." John would have hit Sherlock's smug little face, if he had not seen what just came out of the wall. "John…?" Sherlock saw the look of horror in John's eyes and turned around, to find himself face to face with a ghost covered on bloodstains. It passed straight through him. Sherlock began to violently shake. Another ghost began to speak. "Baron! Don't frighten the first years. They've just gotten here!" The ghost turned to the terrified students. "It's okay. That's just the Bloody Baron. He's Slytherin's house ghost. I'm the Fat Friar. I represent the Hufflepuff House. I hope to see some of your young faces in my common room soon!" The Friar beamed jovially at them.

Hatha cleared her throat. "If you'll allow me to continue?" The Fat Friar nodded at her, took the Baron by his transparent arm, and floated out of the other side of the room. "Now, line up in alphabetical order while the Sorting Hat gets, erm, sorted." There was a mass shuffle as students tries to get into place. John was not at all sorry to leave Sherlock in the front of the line.

A hush swept over the hall. John looked up at the High Table to see a ragged wizard's hat stand on a podium. A queer thought entered his head. Where they going to make him pull a rabbit out of the hat? No sooner had this deranged though left his mind when a rip near the brim of the hat opened. It began to sing.

"_Oh you may not think me pretty, _

_But don't judge on what you see, _

_I'll eat myself if you can find _

_A smarter hat than me. _

_You can keep your bowlers black, _

_Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_And I can cap them all. _

_There's nothing hidden in your head _

_The Sorting Hat can't see, _

_So try me on and I will tell you _

_Where you ought to be. _

_You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_Set Gryffindors apart; _

_You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_Where they are just and loyal, _

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_And unafraid of toil; _

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, _

_if you've a ready mind, _

_Where those of wit and learning, _

_Will always find their kind; _

_Or perhaps in Slytherin _

_You'll make your real friends, _

_Those cunning folks use any means _

_To achieve their ends. _

_So put me on! Don't be afraid! _

_And don't get in a flap! _

_You're in safe hands (though I have none) _

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The hall burst into applause. Professor Spearen stood up from the head table, a large scroll in hand. He began to call out names. "Annis, Harley!" A mousy looking boy walked hesitantly to the Sorting hat. "Go on, put on the hat," the professor encouraged. Harley plopped the hat on his head and sat on the stool. There was a moment of silence. Then: "_HUFFLEPUFF!" _A table to the far right exploded into cheers. John felt a knot of stress release in his stomach. All he had to do was put on a hat. But then a far worse thought came to him. What if the Sorting hat didn't put him into a house? That there was a mistake, that he shouldn't be there after all?

After a few kids, Sherlock went up to the stool. He placed the hat onto his mop of dark curls. The Hat deliberated for a long while. Finally, it screamed "_SLYTHERIN!" _The table next to Hufflepuff roared with approval. John thought that the Slytherins looked like a mean bunch.

Profesor Spearen was nearing the end of his scroll. "Watson Hamish, John!" Finally, it was John's turn to be sorted. He gulped. Mary gave him a thumbs up. She had already been sorted into Gryffindor. John began the long trek to the High Table.

John stared apprehensively at the small black hat. He grabbed it by the end and lowered it on his head. The brim of the hat covered his eyes, obscuring his view of the hall. A small voice began to speak in his head.

"_Ah, yes, John Watson. You have a good head on your shoulders. Plenty of knowledge. But, oh! What's this? All this courage, astounding. There is only one place for you you. Let it be GRYFFINDOR!" _This last part the hat proclaimed to the hall.

John took off the hat, his heart soaring in his chest. He was in Gryffindor! He began to walk to the cheering Gryffindor table. He sat next to Lestrade. Mary was on front of him. Lestrade pounded on his back. "Good job mate! I knew you'd be with us! Thank Merlin that Mycroft's little brother isn't with us." John nodded his agreement. Mary shot him a small smile. "Well, at least I know I have a friend here."

Sally shushed them. "Headmistress Cornell is about to speak." Indeed, the woman on the center of the High Table was standing.

She looked ancient, with long black hair flowing to the middle of her back. Her robes were a deep purple, patterned with moving constellations. She shot gold sparks from the end of her wand, silencing the hall.

"Welcome, students," her voice was soft, like a mother's caress. "Whether you are here for your first introduction, or are enduring your final year, I am glad to see you all here. Now, for the feast! The house elves have not ceased to please. May the school year begin!" She clapped her hands together. John looked down in amazement.

Where before there was only gold plates, there was now steaming piles of food everywhere. Lestrade laughed at the hungry look in John's eyes. "Don't just slobber like a pup! Eat!" That was all that John needed. He began shoveling spoon after spoon, fork after fork, pint after pint into his mouth. Mary looked at him with a gross fascination. "Do you _ever _stop eating?" John shrugged his shoulders. He was hungry.

Finally, John felt full. The house elves seemed to agree, because the food disappeared, leaving spotless plates behind. The headmistress stood up again. "Our feast has come to an end. Let me announce a few things: Mrs. Norris has asked me to remind you that any and all products from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes are BANNED. Also, to tell our new students - and a few of our older students as well," Did John imagine it, or did she look at Mycroft and Lestrade? "The Forbidden Forest is FORBIDDEN to all students. And finally, the dungeons are off limits except for potion classes. That is all. Now, let's get to bed!"

A loud scraping was heard as all the students got up from their benches. "Huh," Lestrade began "The dungeons have never been off limits before. Something must have happened. I wonder what. Well, never mind that. Let's get to the Gryffindor Tower.

Lestrade and Sally led John and Mary away from the Gryffindor prefects. "We know the best shortcuts," they explained. In what seemed a very long time, they finally arrived to the tower. Sally spoke to a picture frame. "Baker Street." The portrait swung open, revealing a Common Room, ornamented with gold and crimson. "Follow me," Sally said to Mary, leading her to the left set of stairs. "Goodnight, John," Mary said, yawning. "Night."

Lestrade led him up the staircase. "Here's your dormitory. I'm on the floor above if you need anything. Night, John." He turned, and began climbing the stairs again.

John chose the bed closest to the window. His thing were already there. He quickly undressed, and jumped into bed. He closed the curtains around his bed. Tomorrow was his first day training as a wizard! He just had to remember the way back to the Grand Hall. He just had to remember…

* * *

**Whew! That was a long one. I told you I'd try to write on a regular basis, didn't I? Well, I'm going to follow John's example and go to sleep. May my babbling infiltrate your dreams. Bye!**

** -Psionic Arsonist**


End file.
